The black stone entrance swallowed Preston as he stepped into the manor. Two of Akis’s thugs appeared from the shadows to flank him. It was difficult for Preston to suppress his mirth at their posturing. The pair tried to loom, to intimidate, but neither reached above Preston’s shoulders.

“Tell the Lady I have found signs of the Knight.”

Both sets of enthralled eyes widened. The Lady’s desire for the Knight was well known, and competition had been fierce to be the pair sent out searching. Preston had won by his experience and sheer presence. Howard had won because he bullied the others into submitting to him.

“This way,” one of the thugs said, a thin man with a rusty wood axe propped on his shoulder. The other had an antique rifle, which appeared to be from the days of the Great Rebellion. There were even the Three Lions of Altland embossed on the butt. Battle spoils from the formation of the Federation.

The rifle was so old, Preston doubted it could fire. Weapon technology hadn’t spread far into the deep mountains, it appeared. All the better for Preston and his allies. The easier the resistance, the better chance at slaying the demon.

The man with the axe led Preston down the hallway, turning his head back to check on Preston every other step. It was a wonder the man did not walk into a wall. The other thug stayed back to guard the door. Preston could not think of a reason for there not to be guards on the outside if they were going to keep such a tight watch.

On his way, Preston committed the layout to memory. The last time he had been here, his mind had been magically twisted to focus on finding the Knight and the mess he’d left behind. Whatever part of his mind had been left untouched by the magical influence of the demon was indulging its primal instincts to run and hide in the presence of the Revenant. Thrice now Preston had encountered magical beings who outclassed him beyond reason in the valley, and he did not like it.

Even with the axeman leading him, Preston still found time to hide the charms and runes the Knight had given him. It consisted of throwing the small objects into dark corners or through open doorways, but he still got them spread through the center of the house. Preston knew the Knight wanted him to spread them with more effect, but it looked like there wasn’t going to be a better opportunity to do so. The gray coat would have to be happy with what he got.

Humans were the dominant life on the planet, and he was not going to be frightened by things in the dark. This demon was going to die, and the Revenant was going to be returned to his rightful rest. A soldier like Preston, returning home, had not deserved to die in some backwater town deep in the ass end of nowhere. He’d lived through the Kindale War, and likely the siege itself. If a man could survive the final days of Kindale, he deserved to die fat and old in his bed.

The dining hall loomed ahead, and Preston steeled himself. He trusted in the Knight’s talisman, even if he did not like the man. Stubborn, pretentious, and self righteous he might be, Campbell was damn good at what he did. Now Preston knew the Lady was using mind magic on him, he felt he could tell when the magic was working on him and resist.

They stepped through the doorway into a nightmare.

Silence greeted them, broken only by the gentle crackling of the fire and a liquid dripping. Preston’s eyes widened before he could stop himself, and he quickly smoothed his features. Giving away his freedom would be tantamount to charging the demon with blade drawn and result in his death. It was not that Preston feared to die, but he feared wasting his death. A man’s death should have meaning. Not like the poor soul in front of him.

Akis was facing away from the door, bent over a still form slumped in an overstuffed armchair by the table. A dark liquid dripped to the floor under the chair, one recognizable as lifeblood. Breath rattled in Mr Slathern’s skinny throat as his life left him, drained into the mouth of the creature crouched over him. Still in the rich dress Preston had first seen her in, the woman—Demon— was much changed in appearance.

Instead of beauty at the head of the table, something from any man’s dreams, there crouched a monster in human form. The beautiful woman was still there, flowing red hair, smooth pale skin, brilliant green eyes, but something lurked behind the perfect exterior. Something twisted, harsh, and alien. Only glimpses showed through, but the flickers Preston saw made his mouth run dry and his shoulders tighten.

The true Akis, hidden behind the veil of beauty. A demon, from Beyond the realm of mortals. Had Granny Esmer not prepared Preston for what lay underneath the glamor of Kathryn Kingston, he would have revealed his freedom immediately. As it was, he barely contained his revulsion.

The monster straightened and smiled, blood glistening on her lips. A tongue, thick and wet, darted out and pulled the leftover remains of the life of Mr Slathern into the maw of the beast.

“Preston, my dear. You have returned to me.” Her appearance shimmered with every word, becoming more and more like the visage of the beautiful young woman she hid her true nature behind. “With good news, I pray?”

“The Knight has gone to ground in the eastern valley, my Lady!” Preston said, posture ramrod straight , a soldier reporting to his superior. “I will pull him out and force him to kneel before you with but a dozen men!”

Zeal, and praise, as the Knight had told him. Akis learning he’d been freed from her control would not help Preston’s life expectancy.

“Ooh, aren’t you just the hard worker.” This time, the demon’s smile did have an effect on him, causing heat to rise under his collar. The talisman was cool on his chest, as Granny Esmer said it would be, but his reaction was purely physical. His eyes could ignore his mind all they wanted.

“I do as my Lady commands,” Preston replied. He did his best to appear mindless and attentive only to the demon. All the while he was casting his eyes about the room, gathering what useful information he could.

The hole where Campbell had been thrown through the wall was gone, covered by new unpainted plaster. The Revenant was likely lurking behind the wall, as it had been since Preston had been in the manor. He didn’t know if the kitchen held some special significance, but the creature seemed to lurk beside the stove unless the Lady had need of it. The Granny Woman had given him a special Charm to plant on the Revenant, but Preston didn’t know how he’d manage it.

“Tell me, what is this new armour about your mind? Did you gain mental fortitude while away from me?”

“What armor is that, my Lady? I do not know what you’re speaking of.” Preston’s blood chilled, counteracting any visual effect the glamor had on him. If the demon suspected he was working with the Knight and attacked now, there was little Preston could do.

He had his pistol, but it wasn’t likely to do much damage to a higher demon. A lesson he’d learned the hard way in Aztlan. A silver star might keep the demon at bay and allow him to flee, but he could not fight off the other thugs and the Revenant at the same time. His only hope was to continue to play dumb and hope she did not press the issue.

“Howard has been speaking to you, hasn’t he? About his own struggles with me? Please, you can tell me all about them.” The wide eyed innocence on her face, however faked, jolted Preston’s heart. The Lady Kathryn might be an illusion, but it was a convincing one. The talisman twitched on his chest, reminding him what he was facing.

“Howard loves serving you, my Lady. He speaks of little else than ensuring your happiness.”

She smiled. “He does. Such a good boy. Where is he?”

A question Preston had anticipated, and rehearsed an answer to on the way back to the manor house. “He insisted he stay and continue searching the woods for more signs of the Knight. I knew you would like word of our progress.”

“You presume to know what I would like?” All trace of warmth was gone from her voice, replaced by the chill of an ice covered river in deep winter. “I told you to find the Knight for me. Not find his footprints. You’ve been naughty.”

Preston blinked, hardly daring to breathe, lest he give away his secret. In that blink, the demon vanished from her place by the cooling corpse of Mr Slathern and appeared in front of Preston. He yelped in surprise and stumbled backwards. He had been expecting something of the sort, but he figured an enthralled wouldn’t have the reason to anticipate her aggression.

“Howard would never give up a chance to stand in my presence. And you should not have been able to resist my orders to find the Knight before returning to me." She chuckled, the sound like a knife rattling in a velvet lined case. “I smell her in this.”

The demon’s hand flashed up and clamped around Preston’s throat, the other hand pressed to his forehead. Strong though the demon was, her hand was still too small to reach either side of Preston’s throat. The claws forced out of her fingertips were plenty of threat.

“My Lady, no! I have been faithful!” He choked out around her needle grip.

“Do not lie, sweetling. There is foul magic about you. They told you it would keep you safe, yes? Protected from me?” The demon’s eyes glowed red, turning her pale skin the shade of fresh blood. “They were wrong. Kneel.”

Preston’s knees hit the floor hard enough to make him cry out in pain. His old joints were not as ready to handle the abuse as his younger body might have. The talisman on his chest shook under the strain of suppressing her Will.

“So, sweetling, tell me. Is Howard still alive?”

Preston hoped there was a chance he could still convince Akis he was on her side. “My Lady, yes! He is still in the valley, serving you!”

If there was an edge of panic in his voice, there was true fear. Preston was confident he could face down any mortal threat, but Akis was no mortal. He was not able to fight a demon on even ground and expect anything less than horrific defeat.

“Interesting.” The demon leaned back, appraising the man kneeling before her. The red glow in her eyes subsided. “There was truth in your statement. Go on.”

“We were searching the woods, where Mr Slathern pointed us. We saw signs of the Knight, and I came back to you to give a report. A commander must always be informed to make her best choices.” Preston placed the information on the now deceased Mr Slathern, as there was no way to verify his story.

“Mr Slathern knew nothing, sweetling. You’re a poor liar.” The demon’s eyes glowed red again and Preston felt the pressure of her Will again, much stronger than before. The talisman emitted an audible screech before shattering on his chest, sending hot shards deep into his skin.

“Ahh!” The force pushed him backwards, tearing him from the demon’s claws. Hot trails formed on his neck where her talons dragged. Freed from Akis’ grip and assured of his impending death, Preston crashed to the floor. He had been injured on the battlefield before, at times near to death. He was used to operating while dealing with shock and bloody holes in his body.

In one motion, he pulled his pistol and fired a bullet between Akis’ glowing red eyes. They winked out, becoming dark. Preston did not remain still after his shot, rolling to his feet and retreating to the door. Or tried, finding his path blocked by a rotting corpse.

The Revenant roared his hollow dead scream and swung a skeletal hand at Preston, fingers bent into claws like a mirror of his mistress. Having learned from the Knight’s shining example, Preston avoided the attack rather than deflect or block. A good thing he did, as the Revenant’s overswing tore a chunk from the door frame. Splinters filled the air and Preston retreated again, searching for a new way out.

“STOP.”

His feet froze in place and his momentum carried him forward, unable to catch himself, his body under the command of Akis. Gravity asserted itself and Preston crashed to the ground again, air driven from his lungs. He refused to die laying face down on the floor and forced himself to roll over. That was all he could do.

The Revenant was atop him before he could think, clawed hand driving toward his eye, dead face locked in a rictus of hatred. There was nothing Preston could do, the undead was inhumanly fast and strong beyond three men.

A guttural word rang out through the room, reverberating in Preston’s ears, painful enough to be noticed over the imminent threat of death hovering inches from his face. Whatever the word had been, it had forced the Revenant to stop his efforts to kill Preston. Not to let him escape. The creature’s weight still pressed into Preston’s chest, claws still digging into his shoulder where the dead man held him.

A small flicker of hope kindled in his chest. Had Campbell come, or the Granny Woman? Either of them should be able to command an undead. They should have the power, it was part of their professions. His hope was extinguished by the bright chime of the demon’s voice, high and clear.

“Off. Back away.”

The Revenant released his grip and backed away, sliding across the floor to melt into the shadows of the doorway. Preston could not move from where he lay because of Akis’ command to stop, but he did raise the pistol he had miraculously kept a hold on as he fell.

“Enough of that. Drop it.” The pistol fell from his powerless hand as Akis walked into view, the hole between her eyes leaking blood. She raised a hand to the wound, fatal to any mortal, and lifted an eyebrow at the blood covered fingers she pulled away. “That hurt. Do not do that again.”

Preston turned his head and spat at her feet. As her eyes flicked to the spittle on her fine crafted shoe, Preston slid the knife from his belt and drove it at her calf. She skipped backwards, but not fast enough to avoid a shallow cut across her shin. Not to be stopped by one failure, Preston lunged as far as he could while still remaining in the place where he fell, stabbing wildly. Every blow missed, the demon prepared, dodging every attack.

“Tenacious fighter, that’s why I chose you to begin. A pity you’ll have to die. Drop the knife. Do not attempt to harm me again, in any way.” For the second time, Preston’s hand opened against his will and released his weapon. Without any action he could take to damage Akis, Preston flopped back and closed his eyes. He prayed it would be quick, but he doubted it.

After several seconds, he came to realize his chest was burning, the skin hot and pinched where the talisman had exploded. Preston opened his eyes to see why more pain was not coming and found the demon standing over him, squinting and rubbing her chin as she studied him.

“I’ve never seen a mundane fight as hard as you. Most are such as the weak corpse there, not worth the effort to kill. You, I will enjoy draining.”

“I am a man of God!” Preston shouted. “His Will protects me from the demons of the Abyss!”

He wasn’t, not really, not since his wife died. What God would allow such sickness to exist? Not one Preston would put his faith in. But he hoped it would give the creature pause, give him enough time to think of a way to survive. At the very least a way to take the demon with him.

“Liar.” A smile with too many teeth broke the demon’s face in two. “I Charmed you before, I can do so again.”

“Do your worst,” Preston snarled. The invisible bonds she had placed on him still held, despite his struggles. All he gained for his efforts was renewed burning on his chest, and blood running from the wounds. The demon’s eyes filled with greed as they watched his blood seep into his shirt, a starving wolf confronted with a wounded fawn.

“My worst would ruin you, and we don’t want to spoil such a delicious cut of meat, would we?” Wood squealed against wood as Akis dragged the chair with the body of Mr Slathern still reclined in its embrace to Preston’s side. A shove dropped the body into a heap on the floor, neck bent at an unnatural angle. “Sit.”

Preston’s limbs moved without his consent, picking his bulk off the floor and depositing him into the chair in a manner that could be considered sitting. His body held itself rigid, hips pressed hard into the chair, legs tensed with toes on the floor, heels in the air. When Preston tried to sit with at least a little comfort, his muscles would not respond, staying in their tortuous positions. Within moments they began to burn, shaking in place.

The demon stood over him, still smiling her many-toothed smile, blood oozing from her forehead. The blood had slowed, and Preston thought the bullet hole might have been smaller than when he inflicted it. Little wonder the Knight had wished to avoid direct conflict. If the creature could heal from a bullet to the head, what chance did they have?

“Now,” said the demon, “tell me of the Knight and the Granny Woman. Where are they?”

“I don’t know,” Preston said. The demon grunted.

“True, in the direct sense. Clever. Where were you to meet them after you left here, presumably alive?”

“Farm—” Preston began to say, before clamping his jaw shut. The demon frowned, as surprised as Preston. If he was able to keep information from the demon, fight against her Charm, maybe he could fight free of her control of his body.

“Where,” the demon asked again, “were you?”

Heartened by his unexpected victory, Preston grinned at the demon and remained silent. A pressure built in his mind, akin to the dull ache brought by hours of artillery bombardment. His grin faltered.

“You are weak, mortal. You cannot fight me. A swallow cannot fight the hurricane, a mouse the avalanche.” The pressure redoubled, then doubled again. The dull ache was a stabbing pain. There was a Need swelling inside him, a Need to obey the woman before him. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, even more beautiful than—

Sophie. The memory of her was cool water over a burn, hot coals on a cold winter’s day. She drove the demon’s artificial Need away, replaced by Preston’s true Need, the Need for Sophie. Faced with what the demon could conjure, Preston could not be lost, so long as he kept Sophie in his mind.

“What did you do!” The shrill voice of the demon cut through his concentration. When he looked up, he saw blood running from the demon’s nose and eyes, too dark to be human. Preston set his jaw and stared straight ahead. Whatever he had done had worked, perhaps too well.

There was no time to second guess himself. There was a bloodthirsty demon in the room, one growing more enraged every second. Best to be away. Tensing his muscles and steeling his mind, Preston pushed against the Charm keeping him in the chair.

Muscles straining against a restraining force that wasn’t there, Preston stumbled forward, propelled by the force of his movement. He had only a moment to appreciate what had happened. Whatever Preston had done when fighting against the demon had also broken the command locking him in place.

He hadn’t been prepared to free himself so easily, and had expected to remain in his chair, giving his last futile act of resistance. His first and only step had been freedom and he hadn’t thought about what came next. The momentum of his escape decided for him.

Launched directly at the Revenant shrouded in shadow by the doorway, Preston could only laugh at his bad luck.

His laughter turned to a strangled cry as the Revenant burst into sight, flying into the table where he remained unmoving in a crumpled heap. Preston regained control of his body and blinked in shock at the Revenant. He was not an expert on the undead, that’s what the Knight was for, but he was reasonably sure the undead did not miss an attack. Akis stared at the Revenant in shock as well.

As one, they looked into the doorway where the Revenant had lurked. There stood the crouched hulking figure of Kash, huge rounded shoulders twisted to fit through the door frame, antlers pointed at the demon.

“Kash!” Preston cried out, at the same time Akis said, “Spirit! You cannot be here!”

The spirit of deer, tree, and man stood to his full height, antlers scrapping the high ceiling and roared. The sound shook the dust from the black stones of the foundation, rattling what dining-ware remained whole after the Revenant slammed into the table.

“Thingofdeepestnight, theravenhome is not yours.” The voice of the spirit promised great violence.

“And neither is it yours, pretender.” The voice of the demon promised swift and terrible retribution.

Preston stood frozen between the two great predators, both outclassing him. This was not the place for mortal man, between demigods about to do battle. He stepped to the wall, keeping an eye on the Revenant as he did. The undead lay still, limbs twisted against human limits.

“Run away, little man. Themountains shall havejudgement on this usurper.” Preston looked in surprise at the spirit. It stood rigid, stone eyes wide. “Thetrees hold herfor flight.”

“You—” Kash leapt forward fast as a shell from a cannon, slamming into the demon. The collision shook the room, almost knocking Preston to the ground. He caught his balance and saw Kash still standing over the demon, arms spread wide to catch her in a crushing embrace. The spirit wasn’t moving, caught as he was with the demon’s arms thrust into his chest to the elbows.

A thin keening wail rose from the treeman, and he began to shake. Preston knew he should help, for the spirit was an ally, but he also knew if anything could stop the hulking spirit in his tracks, Preston could do nothing against such power.

The demon seemed occupied, at least for a moment, so the soldier seized the opportunity to sprint at the limp form of the Revenant and stab the small Charm into his withered chest. Kash groaned again, and Preston flinched back. He fled the manor, ears filled with the sound of mountains screaming.